


Smacked

by Kristen_Hudson



Category: How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: Family Bonding, Family Drama, Family Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-17
Updated: 2019-08-17
Packaged: 2020-09-06 03:28:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20284633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kristen_Hudson/pseuds/Kristen_Hudson
Summary: "Smacked" is a post HTTYD-2 AU where Stoick survived.  The Haddock family deal with the aftermath of battle.





	Smacked

**Author's Note:**

> AN: Smacked is a post-HTTYD 2 alternate universe where Stoick survived the plasma blast. There may be some other differences from the movie-it is an AU, and there are several anachronisms. Bonus points to you if you find them!

Smacked

The sun was setting along the endless horizon where sky and ocean met, its rose-gold beams reflecting off the glittering ice that covered Berk. Stoick sighed deeply as he stood on the steps of the Great Hall and surveyed his village. For the first time in five years, Berk was in ruins- destroyed by ice this time instead of fire, but the damage was just as great. Piles of ice stood where homes and shops had been. Shattered glass and broken boards littered the streets, along with other miscellaneous and mundane items—dented pots, fragments of a crushed chair, a shield cracked into pieces. It would take weeks to rebuild.

For the first time in his life, Stoick didn’t feel up to the task. 

He was nearly fifty years old, but right now he felt closer to Gothi’s age. Though perhaps that wasn’t accurate either. He had seen her bustling around the Great Hall a short time ago, tending to the injured with the energetic determination of a much younger woman. Stoick didn’t think he could muster the energy to lift a tankard of ale, welcome as it would be.

As if on cue, Gobber stepped from the Hall to come to Stoick’s side and press a drink into his hand. 

“Ach, there’s no need to be standing about moping,” his old friend admonished, taking a sip from his own mug. “We ought to be celebrating.”

Stoick turned to him in astonishment. “Celebrating?”

“We won. We won and we didn’t lose a single life. Gothi and Nils say all the wounded will recover. Bludvist is gone. The dragons are free.” Gobber waved his hook-hand at the village. 

“So we lost a few houses. We’ve rebuilt before and we can do it again.”

“I think this is more than a few houses,” Stoick answered dryly. But Gobber’s cheery resilience was contagious and Stoick found he could relish the frothy cold ale, after all.

“It’s a small price to pay for peace,” The blacksmith insisted. He hesitated, then in a rare show of un-Viking-like emotion, he gently placed his prosthetic hand on his friend’s arm. “And for your life. Gotta admit, you had me scared there for a minute.”

Stoick didn’t want to remember that moment when Toothless had nearly killed Hiccup, had nearly killed him when he had rushed to his son’s defense. He knew it wasn’t the Night Fury’s fault. None of them had suspected that Drago could take over the dragon’s mind in such a way, but still the image of Toothless transformed into a ruthless killing machine was burned into his brain. He suspected that he would see it in his nightmares for a long time to come. 

“All’s well that ends well,” He said gruffly, not wanting to dwell on the horrific memory.

Gobber nodded and withdrew his hand. They drank in companionable silence for a time, until the blacksmith once again perked up. “A small price to pay for finding Valka too, heh? I still can’t believe it, after all this time. Where is she anyway?”

“Helping Toothless get all the dragons settled, where else?” Stoick was unable to keep a slight trace of bitterness from his tone.

“Oh.” 

Gobber said no more, but Stoick wondered if his old friend was thinking the same unsettling thoughts that he himself was—that after 20 years apart, and coming within a hair’s breadth of losing her husband to death, maybe-just maybe-Valka could have spent some time at his side instead of taking off with the dragons again. 

But Valka had chosen dragons over her family a long time ago, so perhaps expecting something more from her now was unrealistic. Stoick’s first rush of incredulous joy at finding her alive had been genuine. Valka was the only woman he had ever loved, and she always would be. But now that the shock was wearing off, he was struggling with other emotions too--hurt, disappointment, resentment. Valka might have been taken against her will initially, but she had had many years when she could have returned, even if just for a visit, or she could have contacted them in some way, just to let them know she was alive.

Instead she had deliberately chosen to abandon her husband and son, to leave Stoick with his lonely grief and to leave Hiccup without a mother. Stoick could accept that she had believed she was doing what was best for them all (at least, he was trying to accept it), but it still hurt—tremendously. He loved her, but he wasn’t sure if they could mend their marriage, or if they would even want to. 

He realized that Gobber was speaking to him and turned. “What was that again?”

“I just asked if Hiccup was with them, too. Haven’t seen him for a bit.”

“I haven’t either, actually.” Stoick looked around more closely, searching for any sign of Hiccup’s slight figure, but he and Gobber were the only ones in sight. Most of the villagers had gathered in the Great Hall, the only above-ground place in Berk that was still structurally sound, due to being built into the side of a mountain. Valka and some of the Dragon Riders were tending to the dragons settled in the underground stables for the night. 

Stoick knew that Astrid, Snotlout, and the twins were there. Fishlegs had suffered a minor injury and was with the wounded in the Hall. Hiccup had been in the Hall earlier too, helping Berk’s High Council members as they dealt with the aftermath of battle. It might have been five years since they had had to recover from a dragon raid, but everyone had fallen into their old roles without missing a beat. Though Hiccup was not part of the Council—Stoick had been trying to talk him into accepting a chair for the past year, but his son always adamantly refused—no one had been busier.

He had assisted Stoick in taking roll and accounting for every villager, then had gone to help Spitelout and Gobber pass out bedrolls, and then to Sven and Phlegma as they took inventory of the foodstuffs and supplies. He might have even taken a turn preparing meals in the kitchen. Stoick had seen him carrying bowls of stew to families huddled around the fire pit.

But all of that had been earlier. Stoick felt a familiar anxiety squeeze his heart as he realized that he hadn’t seen his son for some time now, and apparently Gobber hadn’t either. Hiccup might not be quite as accident prone as he had been throughout his childhood, but he still had a habit of attracting danger, or running headlong right into it. Between them, Stoick and Toothless kept a close eye on him, but if the Night Fury was dealing with his new duties as an alpha, he might be a little distracted from watching over his human brother. 

Hopefully, Hiccup was with Toothless now in the stables, but Stoick decided he had better make sure. Any lingering weariness vanished in the wake of concern for his son. 

He handed his empty tankard to Gobber. “I’m going to look for him.”

“I’ll help. Hold on a moment.” Gobber took their mugs inside the Hall and hurried back with two lanterns. He handed one to Stoick and said, “I’ll check your house and the forge.”

Stoick nodded his thanks and the two parted, with the blacksmith heading down the littered road towards the forge and the Chief’s house set high on its hill while Stoick made his way to the tunnel leading to the stables.

Neither Hiccup nor Toothless were there, but Astrid assured him they had gone to the Arena. There wasn’t enough room for all of the dragons underground, she explained, so the others were spending the night in the old Dragon Training Arena. Feeling somewhat reassured, Stoick paused to look for his wife before continuing the search. 

Her dragon, the coppery-red Stormcutter, stood outside a corner stall, his four wings folded tightly and his head tilted to one side as he gazed down into the stall. Sure enough, Valka was crouched inside, next to a female Nadder and her three small hatchlings. She was so intent on crooning softly to them that she didn’t notice him at once and Stoick watched her in silence for a moment before clearing his throat.

She was on her feet in an instance, startling all the nearby dragons as well. The hatchlings flapped their tiny wings and cried out in fear while their mother spiked her tail and raised her head sharply. 

“Shh, it’s all right, my loves,” Valka soothed them, stroking each one’s glittering scales in turn.

Cloudjumper gave Stoick a reproving look and he scowled right back. There were dragons that he loved—Thornado, his great green dragon Skullcrusher, and Toothless of course was family—but this dragon was the one who had stolen Valka from him all those years ago. Stoick wasn’t inclined to feel kindly towards him. 

If Valka noticed the tension between them, she chose to ignore it. 

“Sorry, they’re not accustomed to humans, other than me, that is, and today was quite traumatizing to them.” She smiled at Stoick as she left the stall and came to stand beside him, but he could see a wary exhaustion in her emerald eyes and heart-shaped face—so much like their son’s.

“Traumatizing to all of us,” he agreed. It might not be very Viking of him to admit to weakness, but then again, it wasn’t every day that he nearly lost every member of his family, as well as stared death in the eye, and he felt he was justified in being a little shaken.

“Yes.” Valka ducked her head. “You’re all right? You said you were,” she added, almost defensively.

“I’ll be fine.” Stoick was sore and bruised from the sheer force of the plasma blast and the ends of his hair and beard were singed—they wouldn’t completely fit underneath the dragon-scale mask that had saved his face and throat, but he was incredibly lucky and he knew it. 

“I should have gone to the Hall with you, for a while at least, I suppose,” Valka admitted. “But my dragons needed me, and I just-, I just couldn’t face all those people. I was never a good chieftain’s wife,” she finished quietly.

Stoick touched her cheek lightly. “You were always perfect to me.”

Her eyes filled with tears as she turned to look up at him. “You were always so kind to me. You should have remarried, Stoick. You deserved better. You deserved to be happy.” 

“I thought about remarrying a few times when Hiccup was young,” Stoick admitted. “I thought he ought to have a mother to look after him. But then I could never imagine being married to anyone but you.”

They gazed at one another, their eyes filled with sorrow, regret, and a love that had caused them both more pain than joy. Then Valka stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek before she silently slipped back into the Nadders’ stall.

Stoick took a deep breath and walked away to find his son. He did not look back.  
_____________________________________________________________________________ 

Hiccup was not in the Arena, but he was close by, sitting on a boulder just outside the arched tunnel that led inside. The sun had set and dark was falling. He knew he needed to start back to the Great Hall, but he was so tired. He thought this had been the longest, most stressful day of his life, even more so than the day he and Toothless had fought the Red Death, but if he were honest with himself, it wasn’t just physical fatigue that made him dread the walk back to the village.

It was the heavier burden of remorse and guilt.

He had made so many mistakes lately—not listening to his father’s warnings about Drago Bludvist, running off to confront the warlord, endangering himself and his loved ones, and finally turning on Toothless when the dragon had been an innocent victim of the tyrant’s sadism.

When had he become such an arrogant jerk? And what was he supposed to do now? He could apologize all day long, but that wouldn’t change the fact that the village was in ruins, that people were injured because of him, that he had betrayed both his father and his closest friend. Toothless had forgiven him and Stoick probably would as well, but Hiccup knew he didn’t deserve it.

An ebony dragon snout nuzzled his cheek, and Hiccup looked up to find Toothless standing close, watching him in concern. The dragon must have sensed his turmoil and come to comfort him. But that only made Hiccup feel worse.

“Hey, bud.” He tried to smile. “It’s all right. I’m okay. I know you need to take care of your flock. You don’t have to babysit me.”

You are my flock and you need me now. Toothless warbled.

Hiccup gazed at him sadly. “I’m so sorry. You’ve always been so good to me, but I wasn’t there for you.”

Why do you say that? You were there for me. You came and saved me from that monster. 

“I knew it wasn’t your fault. I knew it! But I still-,“ Hiccup choked over the words.

Toothless nuzzled him again, licking his face in comfort. I understand. I nearly killed you; I nearly killed Dad. Of course you were upset. It wasn’t your fault either.

Hiccup wrapped his arms around Toothless’ neck, burying his face against the Night Fury’s warm scales. “Thank you,” he whispered. “I don’t deserve it, but thank you.” 

Toothless licked his cheek, but then gave him a look that was somewhere between affection and exasperation. Yes, you do deserve it. You are the kindest, most gentle person in the world. You forgave me and I forgive you.

“But you didn’t do anything wrong,” Hiccup whispered. “I did.”

If I didn’t do anything wrong, then why do I feel so guilty?

Hiccup couldn’t bear the look of helpless sorrow reflected on Toothless’ face. He hugged him fiercely. 

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” he repeated. “And if you forgive me, then it’ll be all right. We’ll make it be all right.”

Toothless enfolded him in his wings and the two stood close together for a long moment. 

Until, abruptly, Stoick’s voice called out to them, “Well, there you two are. I’ve been looking for you.”

Boy and dragon stepped apart and turned to see Berk’s chief striding towards them. Stoick’s step was firm, but in the lantern’s light Hiccup could see deep shadows under his eyes and lines creasing his forehead. For the first time, he noticed gray threads in his father’s auburn hair. 

Guilt hit him like a brick wall again as he mumbled, “Hi, Dad.” 

Toothless crooned at him too, but with an anguished tone.

Stoick looked from one to the other. “Are the dragons all settled in for the night? Everyone got a place to sleep?” 

Hiccup nodded. “Yea, the older ones and families with hatchlings are in the stables. Most of the others are here and Hookfang took the rest to the caves.”

“Well, good. And speaking of a place to sleep, we need to be heading back to the Hall,” Stoick told them. “It’s been a long day.”

Hiccup couldn’t argue with that so he only nodded again and held out a hand to Toothless. “Come on, bud.”

Ever since the battle of the Red Death, Toothless had shared Hiccup’s room—the only one of the bigger dragons who lived inside a house. But now he hesitated, looking back at the Arena and then chirping softly at his human family.

“Oh, yea,” Hiccup said slowly. “I understand.” 

He turned to his father and explained. “He thinks that he ought to stay with the dragons, at least for now. Since he’s the alpha, he should be there in case anyone needs him.” 

Stoick looked at the dragon. “Toothless,”

The Night Fury almost cringed as Stoick addressed him directly, but the chief stepped close and placed his hands on each side of Toothless’ face.

“You’re going to be a good leader. But alpha or not, you were part of our family first. So once things have calmed down, I expect you to be back at home with us again.”

Toothless gave a happy bark and enthusiastically licked Stoick’s face. Then he did the same to his brother before leaving them to head back inside the Arena.

“Silly reptile, you know that doesn’t wash out,” Hiccup called softly after him.

They could hear Toothless chortling as he disappeared from sight.

Stoick held out an arm to his son. “Let’s go then. It’ll be completely dark soon.”

Hiccup went to him but as his father’s arm settled about his shoulders, he suddenly couldn’t bear his anguished remorse any longer.

“You shouldn’t do this!” He burst out, stepping away and looking up at his father with stricken eyes.

“Do what?” Stoick frowned in confusion.

Hiccup waved his arms wildly. “Hold me, come after me! I don’t deserve it. I didn’t listen and I disobeyed you. You should be angry with me!”

“Well, I’m not pleased that you disobeyed me and went running off into danger,” Stoick admitted. “But I do understand why you did it. You were trying to prevent bloodshed.”

“But I failed. People are hurt because of me! You nearly died because of me!”

“I’m alive because of you, you and Toothless.” Stoick gestured to the black dragon-scale armor he wore. Hiccup and Toothless had given it to him last Snoggletog and it had saved his life today.

Hiccup grimaced wryly in acknowledgement, but he was still haunted by the image of his father lying still on the ground after Toothless had shot a plasma blast at him—a blast that had been intended for Hiccup himself. But his father loved him enough to literally shield him from a fire bomb, even after Hiccup had defied him and endangered them all.

And other people had been hurt in today’s battle too.

“So many people are hurt,” he whispered. 

“People are hurt because of Bludvist,” Stoick told him. “He was a dangerous, violent man. Innocent lives meant nothing to him, human or dragon.” 

“And you tried to tell me, but I wouldn’t listen. This is all my fault,” Hiccup said miserably.

But Stoick shook his head. “He hated dragons and he wanted to conquer the world. He would have shown up here sooner or later, regardless of anything you did.” 

“And if I hadn’t run off, you wouldn’t have had to come after me. We could have been here, preparing for him. Maybe the village wouldn’t be ruined. But I went against you, not just as my father but as chief.” Hiccup’s face and voice were full of pain. “You should disown me again, cast me out, at least smack me around.”

Stoick gave him a long, measuring look, then set down the lantern. “So you think you deserve to be smacked? Well, come here then.”

Hiccup swallowed hard but went to him without hesitating. He deserved this after all. Maybe physical pain could help dull the emotional torment.

He was completely shocked when his father placed gentle hands on his shoulders and kissed him on the forehead. Then Stoick pulled him close into a strong, warm embrace as his son wept, shaking with silent sobs.

Stoick held him for a while before asking softly, “Why would you even think I would hit you, hmm? I’ve never raised a hand to you, have I?” 

For all his failures as a father, that at least was not one of them.

Hiccup shook his head, his face buried against his father’s shoulder. 

Stoick drew back a moment to look into his son’s eyes. “I just might give you a real smack, though, if you ever talk about disowning again,” he said with mock gruffness, although he then completely spoiled the threat by taking Hiccup back into his arms and burying his face in his son’s hair. “I would give anything if I could take back that day, son. You know that, right?” 

They had certainly talked about it often over the past few years as they worked through all the neglect and emotional harm of Hiccup’s childhood, and Stoick tried to help heal the wounds.

“I know,” Hiccup mumbled.

When they finally stepped apart, Stoick said quietly, “I know how you feel, though. I felt the same way that day, when you and Toothless fought the Red Death. Because that day, you were right and I should have listened to you. But I was stubborn and took off with our whole fleet. If you and Toothless hadn’t saved us, we all would have died.”

He swallowed hard as he said in a low voice, “You paid a terrible price for my mistakes.”

Both of them automatically glanced down at Hiccup’s prosthetic foot before Stoick drew a deep breath and went on, “You forgave me then, for everything I’d done to you. How can I do any less?” 

Hiccup managed a tentative smile and Stoick patted his shoulder. “You know if we don’t get back to the Great Hall soon, half the village will be out looking for us.”

“Guess we better get moving then.” Hiccup started to pick up the lantern, but suddenly turned and flung his arms around his father first. “Love you, Dad.”

Stoick hugged him back hard. “I love you too, Hiccup.” 

They started along the path to Berk. Just past the curve, they did indeed meet up with Gobber, who had given up searching for them in the village and was anxiously hurrying to the Arena. Stoick had his arm about Hiccup’s shoulders and the two of them looked so content and peaceful that Gobber simply glared before spinning around and stomping ahead of them, muttering loudly about “those blasted Haddocks, always disappearing…never mind that people might be worried… oughta glue their feet to the floor!” 

Father and son exchanged amused glances and tried to smother their laughter as they followed their old friend back to Berk.

\------------------------------------------------------------*Finis*-----------------------------------------------------------


End file.
